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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28798344">New and Improved</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Watson_42/pseuds/Doctor_Watson_42'>Doctor_Watson_42</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stargate SG-1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ADD/ADHD, Bacchus - Freeform, Bacchus is a goa'uld, But mostly he just contemplates, Daniel has ADD, Daniel has a little bit of angst, Gen, Midas, Minor Daniel Jackson/Sha're, Myth of King Midas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:14:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,538</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28798344</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Watson_42/pseuds/Doctor_Watson_42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Daniel Jackson is offered a chance by the goa'uld Bacchus to rid himself of his "flaws" and become the perfect version of himself. But does perfect mean better?</p><p>Based on the myth of King Midas.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>New and Improved</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So this one's based on the myth of King Midas and the golden touch. Bacchus wasn't a character in SG1, but he's here anyway, and instead of giving Daniel the ability to turn all that he touches into gold, he makes him into the most "perfect" version of himself, which doesn't go so well. Also, Daniel has ADD (attention deficit disorder) in this one because that's my personal head cannon (and I'm also probably projecting - but he does seem to hyperfocus/talk really, really fast, especially when it comes to archeology/linguistics). Daniel becomes faster, stronger, smarter, and is finally able to focus whenever he wants, but at what cost? The "better" he gets, the more he starts to loose himself, his very personality. Is that a sacrifice he's willing to make? Does perfect mean better?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I am offering you the chance to rid yourself of your greatest flaw, to become the most perfect version of yourself," the goa'uld Bacchus, a bearded man wearing an ivy crown and toga, boomed deeply over the fits of manic laughter and ruckus of the appropriately bacchian party that cascaded through the ornate golden throne room, "What say you, Dr. Daniel Jackson of the Tau'ri?"</p><p>Daniel struggled against the harsh grip of the jaffa, desperately trying to escape. His eyes flitted around from the gold plated doors, finding all to be heavily guarded. He peered into the darkest corners of the room, hoping to find SG1 hurtling through at any moment to rescue him.</p><p>Nothing. Just the noise of the party, the clinking of glasses and gold, mad laughter and drunken dancing. He winced, at last realizing just how loud it all was. So loud, he could hardly think.</p><p>But then a morbid thought crossed his mind. Was Bacchus going to make him a host? Do to him what had been done to Sha’re. He remembered how distraught, how livid, how despairing he had been that day on Abydos when she was dragged away, screaming, and he had been powerless to stop them from taking away everything that made her her.</p><p>His face betrayed him, and had drawn into a visible scowl. Bacchus, “Be assured, you are not worthy to become a host. But you and your team have caused much grief for the system lords.”</p><p>“So this is retaliation,” Daniel concluded as fear flashed in his eyes. His glasses slid down the increasingly sweat covered bridge of his nose. He stiffened as Bacchus leaned over to push his glasses back up, the gesture less one of kindness and more a faux pas, for the goa’uld could have just as easily poked out his eyes or snapped his neck.</p><p>“No,” Bacchus chided as though explaining something painfully simple to a small child, “This is a gift.”</p><p>Bacchus smiled mirthlessly, smugly, “I’ve always hated the system lords. And I shall enjoy seeing them snuffed out more...efficiently.”</p><p>Bacchus snapped his fingers, and a large goblet of wine was brought forth. Redder than blood and sweeter than sugar cane, smelling of something acidic and disturbingly like the blood of infant goa’uld. Horrified, Daniel fought to get even an inch of distance between himself and the goblet. He struggled still, finding himself without leeway, and disturbingly, finding the goblet coming closer...closer...closer. A tendril of smoke rose dangerously from it, burning his eyes like fire. Turning his head away from the substance, he smelled it in a panicked breathe, and the smell was nothing short of utterly intoxicating. For some unknowable reason, the name “Midas” flashed like an alarm in his mind. He...he...he put the thought aside. This was...why did he ever think this was a...bad thing?</p><p>“Drink up,” he heard the booming voice of Bacchus encourage cruelly, just beyond the goblet, “It’s good for you.”</p><p>And then everything went black.</p><p>***</p><p>Beep...beep...beep. A steady rhythmic beep echoed through the darkness. Daniel, startled, tried to move. He could not. It was as though a gap stood between his brain and body.</p><p>After some time, and with great effort, he managed to open his eyes, just barely, and a flurry of light and color bombarded his vision. Squinting, he made out the forms of three, no, four figures.</p><p>“Daniel...Danny boy...time to wake up, buddy.”</p><p>The voice, although he barely heard it, was almost certainly human. No inflections or a loud, deepening of the voice. Danny boy? Why did that sound so...familiar?</p><p>“Jack?” Daniel murmured quietly, unsure, “Why am I...where am I?”</p><p>A blurry, red haired figure moved by the source of the beeping, “You’re in the SGC infirmary.”</p><p>A female voice. Dr. Frasier, of course.</p><p>“You were out cold when we found you,” Jack’s gravelly voice sounded calm, but clear concern lined the edges, “Jeez Daniel. What’d that snake do to you?”</p><p>Daniel could feel some semblance of life returning to his limbs and senses. He managed to take a moment to shift in the hospital bed, sitting up just a little. He expected to feel something when he moved, pain, soreness, something.</p><p>Nothing. He felt fine. A little numb, but other than that, fine.</p><p>“As far as I can tell,” Dr. Fraiser said, “He’s in perfect health.”</p><p>It was then that Daniel realized that he was seeing everything in the room with crisp and clear vision. Sam, Teal’c, Jack, Dr. Frasier, even General Hammond in the window above. The heart monitor next to him, not blurry at all. He put a hand to his face, and found no glasses.</p><p>No glasses.</p><p>“I...” Daniel began, shakily, straining to remember “We on a mission. A goa’uld in a village, seemed to be the descendents of the ancient Romans. Bacchus...captured...there was a party...and he made me drink...something? He said that it would make me the ‘most perfect version of myself’, as a gift for killing some of the system lords.”</p><p>The room seemed to stand still in shock. At last, Jack said something, “Okay...I’ve been to enough parties to know that he gave you some kind of drug. And who knows what passes for drugs with the snakes, huh?”</p><p>“And there’s another thing,” Daniel said, “I can see perfectly...without my glasses.”</p><p>“Maybe your eyes got better?” Jack suggested.</p><p>“That’s not how it works, Jack.”</p><p>“Sir,” Sam turned to Jack, “We have no idea what sort of genetic alterations Bacchus made. For all we know, intentionally or not, some of those alterations could become cancerous or any assortment of health complications.”</p><p>“It is possible, Major Carter,” Teal'c said, “However, Bacchus was considered to be an enemy of the system lords, and was known for having made significant advancements in genetic engineering. He would likely not jeopardize the opportunity to further bring down the system lords by causing physical harm to one of their enemies.”</p><p>“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Jack said.</p><p>“Even if that’s the case,” Sam said, “We have no idea what kind of mental repercussions could result.”</p><p>“I feel fine, guys. Really,” Daniel said, strangely resigned to the entire situation.</p><p>“Yeah,” Jack said, “But how do we know that’s you and not the snake juice talking?”</p><p>Daniel didn’t say anything, because he knew there was nothing to say. Jack could be right. In fact, he probably was right, not that’d he ever admit it.</p><p>For the next week, Dr. Fraiser kept Daniel in the infirmary, administering tests every day. Remarkably, Daniel’s condition became increasingly befuddling as his health became more and more...perfect. At first it was small things, like his seasonal allergies not acting up, despite there being enough pollen in the air to coat the gate outside Cheyenne mountain with a layer of yellow. Then, when Dr. Fraiser could find no reason to keep Daniel any longer, he ventured to the SGC gym. He sparred with Teal'c, expecting to lose terribly. But when he knocked the towering jaffa down in one move, he began to wonder just how much Bacchus’s “gift” had changed about him. Clearly, his strength had been increased two fold.</p><p>And when he passed Sam’s office where she was busy at work trying to solve a physics equation which he previously would have been barely have been able to grasp, he did a double take, took a step back and said, “It’s six point six two six zero seven zero zero four times ten to the negative thirty fourth joule seconds.”</p><p>It turned out he was right.</p><p>The SGC used Sam’s calculations to determine how to avoid a star between Earth and the next mission destination. Although Dr. Frasier, and the rest of SG1, for that matter, had urged him to stay at the SGC, given recent events, he had insisted on going on this mission.</p><p>Because according to Tok’ra intelligence, Sha're...no, Amaunet...was there.</p><p>Sha’re…</p><p>It was strange. Just a moment ago, he had been so eager, so impassioned that his teammates had exchanged worried looks. Having been on the mission for two days, he had refused to sleep (not that he needed it) and could think of nothing other than finally, finally saving her.</p><p>And yet...like a drunken stupor, he seemed to have forgotten everything. It was night, dark and black with unfamiliar swirls of stars illuminating the sky. Rain fell with a soft pitter patter onto the forest floor, an alien insect that seemed strangely ant-like, only larger and a bright blue, skittered over SG1’s makeshift tent and base. Staring softly into the middle distance, Daniel felt so far away from it all. Like a balloon who’s string has been cut, floating off into the sky.</p><p>“Daniel?”</p><p>“Jack,” the archeologist completed their usual exchange. Jack moved to stand next to Daniel, “You really should get some rest. You’ll need it in the morning.”</p><p>“I know,” Daniel said, hesitating for a moment, “Bacchus...I don’t think that he just changed my body, or my intellect. I feel like I’m changing too. It just feels like everyday I’m losing a little bit more of myself. Of me.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack’s brows furrowed in concern, “Oh please don’t tell me he put a snake in your head.”</p><p>“No,” Daniel said, “It’s not like that, exactly. It’s more like...well, I guess it’s more like being trapped inside a dream.”</p><p>“Or a nightmare,” Jack added.</p><p>“Yeah,” Daniel agreed solemnly, “Or a nightmare.”</p><p>The morning light came with a vengeful, vicious heat. Having spent the last two days convincing the local villagers that Amaunet was, in fact, a false god, this would be the day that the village would overthrow the goa’uld.</p><p>The truth was that Daniel, despite how long he had waited and fought and hoped to find Sha’re again, was completely unprepared. Even though he was stronger and smarter, he just felt so...different. Too different. Too unlike himself.</p><p>And that worried him.</p><p>And then she escaped, Sha’re was lost in a blaze of gunfire and shouts and explosions that made your ears bleed.</p><p>It was strange...everything seemed to have less color to it, less variety in the hues and shadows. Everything was going gray and blurry.</p><p>***</p><p>Back at the SGC, after everyone had spent a decent amount of time being treated for minor injuries and sprains in the infirmary, the others seemed to cast nervous glances his way, as though they expected him to break into a thousand little pieces any second now.</p><p>Now why would that be?</p><p>They told him that he was in shock. They told him that his very personality had changed. They told him that this must be Bacchus’s doing. “That snake head”, as Jack referred to him as.</p><p>He really didn’t understand what they were all so worried about.</p><p>He was made to stay in the infirmary, under close watch, and guard. Jack was kind enough to bring him some of the translations he had been working on, and he mostly used that to occupy his time. Just a week ago, he would have been overjoyed with his work. Now, however, it only served as a purely intellectual exercise, keeping his mind active, and yet his heart still.</p><p>“Daniel.”</p><p>“Jack?”</p><p>Jack sighed as he handed Daniel another translation as he sat in a chair next to the hospital bed, “What did he do to you, Danny?”</p><p>“Bacchus? He made me better, of course.” Daniel said blankly as though it were perfectly obvious. It was obvious, wasn’t it?</p><p>“Well, I mean, that’s all a little subjective, don’t you think?” Jack said as he leaned forward in his chair, “I mean he made you stronger, faster, and smarter. But those are all physical changes. What did he do to you, as in you you?”</p><p>Daniel tried to focus on his translations, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p><p>“Oh for crying out loud!” Jack smacked the translations out of Daniel’s hands, only for Daniel to stare blankly at him, “You see that! The old you, the you you, would’ve been furious at me for doing that. And what about Sha’re, huh?”</p><p>“What about her?”</p><p>“We just lost her again, Daniel,” Jack said, “You honestly can’t tell me that that doesn’t upset you.”</p><p>Nothing. Daniel didn’t look angry or sad or even annoyed.</p><p>Desperate to get some answer, some reaction, Jack seized Daniel’s shoulders, “So what did he take from you, huh, Daniel? Your soul?!”</p><p>Daniel’s eyes widened slightly. Just slightly. The bright blue in his eyes had strangely turned a grayish hue, making him look like a faded old Da Vinci painting. And then his eyes narrowed as he looked off to the side.</p><p>“He didn’t just make me better, Jack,” Daniel admitted, “He...he also took away my greatest flaw.”</p><p>“Your what?”</p><p>Daniel sighed, chin dropping to his collarbone. “I’ve been able to focus a lot better recently. It’s actually a bit boring.” He chuckled bitterly.</p><p>Jack realized that he was still shaking Daniel by the shoulders, so he let go and sat back down. In a rare moment of earnestness and sobriety, Jack folded his hands, “Go on.”</p><p>Daniel’s lips formed a nervous half smile as he put a hand behind his head, “I remember when I was a kid, and this was before my parents...before. Well, I used to stare off into space or babble on endlessly for hours, fidget constantly, and I never could find the right clothes. At first, everyone just assumed that it was because I was a kid. And then, after, after my parents...after, well, it wasn’t like I had any time to think about it, so I didn’t think much of it.”</p><p>Daniel broke eye contact and looked up at the ceiling, and took a deep, shaky breath, “In high school everyone thought of me as the weird geek kid. I didn’t think too much of that, I just assumed I was different because, well, I was a teenager. But then when I got to college, as a linguistics and archeology undergrad student, I started noticing. I noticed that most people didn’t feel how I felt, or thought how I thought. Most people didn’t think that a loud room was torture and impossible to focus in, or hated how their clothes felt, or felt like their brain was moving faster than their mouth could catch up. I tripped and stumbled over my words, constantly, because I wanted to get my thoughts out before they left my brain. I felt like my brain was either full of fog or in, if you’ll excuse the reference, hyperdrive. There didn’t seem to be a middle ground, really. Did you know that I chose archeology, at first, because it helped me feel connected to my parents? That was how it was, at first. But then it became something more. It became an escape, an obsession, what I thought about all the time. And I mean all the time. Some days I’d wake up and my brain and work would move a million miles an hour, I felt like Superman. But other days, on those bad days, I couldn’t think. Everything, every thought, every feeling and sensation, it was just too overwhelming. I didn’t have any control over it. I couldn’t choose, it just was what it was. I soon came across a word for what I had. Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, ADHD as it’s more commonly known.”</p><p>Daniel ran a sleeve over one of his eyes and sniffed. He was red with shame and embarrassment, “And I couldn’t tell anyone, Jack. I didn’t want people feeling sorry for me, or pitying me, or treating me any different. I just wanted...I just wanted it to go away. I don’t want to have what I have, I don’t want to be who I am, I don’t want to be held back or held down...I just want to be better, Jack. I just want to be better.”</p><p>Jack watched in horror as Daniel’s blue eyes grew watery, and he clutched like a frightened kitten at Jack’s sleeve. “I’m better now,” his tone was desperate and unsure, “Right, Jack?”</p><p>“Daniel…” Jack hesitated, unsure of what to say or how to react, “I…”</p><p>There was a moment when it seemed like the whole world lost its color. It wasn’t dark or bright or beautiful. It felt like nothing was left. And then, out of the silence…</p><p>“We love you just the way you are, Danny boy.”</p><p>Jack was adamant, “You are one of the kindest, most passionate people on this planet, maybe even this galaxy. You love your work, and you really, really care about people even when they don’t deserve it. You are the gentlest man I have ever known, and even though you can be a pain sometimes, and even though we’ve had our fair share of arguments...I wouldn’t want it any other way.”</p><p>Daniel nodded, face and eyes still flushed, he let go of Jack’s sleeve. He leaned back on the hospital bed to observe a particularly interesting spot on the ceiling, letting out a deep sigh and closing his eyes to let the impact of it all sink in.</p><p>***<br/>
“Bow before your god!” demanded a booming voice.</p><p>“Now, now. There will be no bowing today, Bacchus buddy,” Jack O’Neill drawled as he marched the goa’uld along the SGC hallway, pushing him into a prison cell with his P90.</p><p>“Shol’va!” Bacchus sneered through the bars in the Teal’c’s direction. The jaffa remained stoic, although perhaps the slightest trace of a smug smirk passed over his face.</p><p>“Tell us what you did to Daniel,” Sam said, arms crossed.</p><p>“I will not be treated in this manner,” Bacchus was indignant, “I am a god!”</p><p>“Oh for crying out loud,” Jack rolled his eyes, “Don’t tell me you bought into your own propaganda.”</p><p>That seemed to shut him up. Jack continued, “If you’re so great and mighty, how come three random people could march into that fancy forcefield protected throne room of yours and take you prisoner, huh?”</p><p>Bacchus bristled and tugged abashedly at the collar of his toga, “I was...I may have been..somewhat...intoxicated.”</p><p>“Oh, big surprise coming from the wine guy,” Jack said sarcastically, “Remember, don’t drink and enslave planets, kids.”</p><p>“I will be sure to remember this, colonel O’Neill,” Teal’c said in such an expressionless way that Jack couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.</p><p>Bacchus put his hands out in front of him pleadingly, palms up, “I only gave your little friend, the one with the metal on his face, what he wanted.”</p><p>“Oh, okay, so Daniel wanted this?” Jack narrowed his eyes skeptically.</p><p>“Well,” the goa’uld shifted uncomfortably, “He didn’t ask, per say.”</p><p>Jack looked about ready to beat the living daylights out of him, before Bacchus added, quickly, “But it my wine does recognize what the drinker considers their greatest flaw, and eliminates it.”</p><p>“Is there a way to reverse the wine’s effects?” Sam asked.</p><p>“There is, but there remains the possibility that the anecdote will not work,” Bacchus replied.</p><p>“Listen to me Bacchus,” Jack took the moment to utilize his imposing figure, pointing an intimidating finger at the goa’uld and delivering an effective death glare, “Either make it work, or I’ll leave you alone with him.” Jack threw his head in Teal’c’s direction.</p><p>Teal’c started sternly yet stoically directly in the goa'uld’s direction. Bacchus gulped.</p><p>***<br/>
“It will only work if your friend wants it to work,” Bacchus informed Jack, who along with four guards had weapons trained on the goa’uld as they approached the infirmary.</p><p>“Watch him,” Jack ordered the guards as he pushed the door open. Daniel sat cross legged in hospital clothes, watching the wall intently, eyes red.</p><p>“Jack?”</p><p>“Daniel,” Jack closed the door, “How’re you feeling?”</p><p>Daniel sighed weakly, resting his chin on a fist, “Not so good, Jack. The world’s getting...I don’t even know how to describe it...duller? Grayer? I mean, everything’s so messed up, and there’s no fixing any of it. I keep remembering everyone who’s died because of me. My parents. Sha’re. Countless, countless others. I can’t make it stop. I feel like I’m falling and suffocating at the same time.”</p><p>“Listen, Daniel,” Jack began, trying to sound comforting, “We can...we can get through this, okay?”</p><p>Taking a cautious step forward, “We found Bacchus, Daniel. He can undo what he did to you.”</p><p>“So I heard,” Daniel replied, tense.</p><p>“And you know that the antidote only works if you want it to work, right?” Jack asked.</p><p>“I know.” Daniel seemed strangely calm. Too calm.</p><p>Jack blinked, unsure, “And?”</p><p>“It's not that I don’t appreciate all...this, but you’ve got to think about what we’d be losing.”</p><p>“Oh no. No Daniel. We talked about this.”</p><p>Daniel observed his clenched fist thoughtfully, “I’m stronger, faster, smarter, consistently focused. Think about what an advantage that would be over the goa’uld.”</p><p>“Daniel! Look at me, will you?” Jack demanded, his rising in concern, “It doesn’t matter what that damn snake head says. Heck, it doesn’t even matter what other people say, just...just listen, okay? You can’t change who you are. No, you shouldn’t change who you are, because, I mean, look what it's done to you! You’re a different man. You’re miserable. Even if he says he made you better, I say he made you worse. No one, and I mean no one should ever have to sacrifice who they are.”</p><p>Daniel shook his head, “How can I give up this opportunity, Jack? What if the next time some world ending threat comes along, I can’t...what if I’m not strong enough, or fast enough, or smart enough next time, Jack? If all it takes to save Earth is losing one man, if this is really the best version of me, than how could I -- ”</p><p>“Daniel,” Jack was somber, “How many times have we, have you saved the Earth, huh?”</p><p>Jack pulled Daniel into a hug, “You are the best man I have ever known. Whether you believe it or not...I tell you what I believe. I believe in you. You are the best version of you, Daniel.”</p><p>Daniel knit his hands and felt silent tears welling in the corners of his eyes. There are many types of weeping, a melancholy bouquet of roses throughout life. Widows weep politely at funerals. Children sob loudly from broken bones. The dying scream and shout in regret and fear. Kids who get bullied weep silently in the back of the classroom, because they know help won’t come. Prisoners of war weep with joy when rescue arrives. Sometimes, a moment is just so overwhelming, a person can’t help but cry.</p><p>But there, in the white, sterile infirmary, Daniel wept in all the ways a man can weep.</p><p>Later, they brought Bacchus into the room, who handed the antidote to Dr. Frasier. A needle was stuck in his arm before he felt something heavy and vile in his veins. It was nauseatingly powerful, not unlike the wine Bacchus had had him drink what felt like an eternity ago. But instead causing him to lose consciousness, he felt the substance pushing at his cells, tearing them apart and putting them again.</p><p>And he had the strangest feeling that he could stop it if he wanted to.</p><p>And that was the dilemma of it. Did he want this? All of that strength, all of that power would be gone. And he’d be him again.</p><p>Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing…</p><p>***<br/>
Midas...Midas...Midas…</p><p>Midas…?</p><p>The word echoed through the darkness, like a song stuck in Daniel’s head. Wincing against the bright lights just beyond his eyelids, and sitting bolt upright from the hospital bed, he remembered.</p><p>After Dr. Fraiser had confirmed that he was, in fact, his old self, and after an additional day spent in the infirmary just to be sure, he found himself in the briefing room with SG1.</p><p>“Bacchus’s technology is incredible, really, precisely altering human DNA and even brain chemistry in ways that we are just beginning to understand," Sam said.</p><p>“Yeah, but it also has ground up goa’uld in it, so...” Jack drawled.</p><p>Daniel was staring off into space, as he so often did, in a distant, thoughtful way that made him look like a marble sculpture.</p><p>“I’ve been thinking about something,” Daniel interjected suddenly, talking at a mile a minute, “There’s an old myth about a king named Midas. In greek mythology he’s given a gift by Dionysis, Bacchus in roman mythology, and there’s actually a fascinating transition between the various incarnations of Dionysis, but that probably doesn’t matter right now. The gift is, of course, the ability to turn anything that the king touches into gold. At first, he’s thrilled, until he turns his food into gold and realizes that he’ll starve to death. He accidentally turns his family into gold, and eventually he returns to Bacchus to ask to have the gift taken away. He could sacrifice everything in order to get everything...or he could just live.”</p><p>Daniel found himself so excited, so immersed in his words that the world around him seemed to fall away, only leaving him and the story of Midas in the void left. His hands shook, and his jaw clenched as he struggled to climb back out into the world and think.</p><p>That was the price he had to pay. Standing separate from the world in a way he couldn’t control. Too many thoughts, too many ideas and myths and names raced through his mind, as they so often did. Sometimes it was overwhelming. But he couldn’t change that.</p><p>And he was okay with that.</p><p>“I think that Midas understood that not every definition of strength is better,” Daniel was quietly thoughtful, almost somber, and yet hopeful. The small trace of a smile formed on his lips, “There are some things that just are what they are. And that’s okay.”</p><p>It was a strange epiphany. His entire life, he had thought himself defective, weak. If he had been faster, or smarter, or stronger, than his parents, Sha’re, would any of them be gone? If he had been better, maybe he could stop anything like that from happening again.</p><p>The thing that haunted him was that Bacchus was not the one who decided what would change about him. That was his decision, even if he hadn’t decided to drink the wine of his own free will. He had thought that if he just changed the right things about himself, that maybe...maybe he could make up for all of it.</p><p>But the truth was that he was better today than he was yesterday. Perfect was unattainable, but he could still strive to be a better man, no matter what. And he didn’t need a goa’uld gift to do that, he didn’t need to give up who he was to be better, better than he was before.</p><p>And in a private moment that resonated through his very heart, he thought, “I’ll find you again, one day, Sha’re. And I’ll still be me when I do. I promise.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! The idea for this kind of just popped randomly into my head, so I wrote it down in the heat of the moment for catharsis and my inner obsessive Stargate fan. I tried to use a metaphor. Emphasis on tried. ADHD comes in many forms, but most people recognize it as the "H" part, the hyperactive part - but sometimes it's a physical thing, sometimes a mental thing (what is most commonly referred to as ADD, which is what Daniel has for the most part in the fic), and sometimes it's both. Although I am most definatly not an expert or a professional, from my experience I would liken it to a pendulum. On one side of the pendulum is this sort of fog that clouds your brain against your will. It's like not being able to think about the right thing at the right time (although it's nice when those things happen to Stargate related), which can lead to a LOT of unrelated thoughts that just won't go away no matter how hard you try - imagine suddenly having ten songs blasting loudly into your ears at once, it makes it rather difficult to focus, if that makes any sense. And then on the other side of the pendulum is this amazing hyper-focus, it makes you feel like a superhero - you can learn faster, think faster and more creatively, do anything and everything and be home in time for supper. Unfortunately, there's really no way to control it, which can be kind of confusing to the person and the people around them. One moment, they're really good at something, and the next they can't even think and the world gets way too overwhelming. It's like a sort of mental whiplash. Also, there's a sensory component, and I don't know why or if a lot of people have this, but for some reason certain sensations are physically painful (like certain clothes, the feel of a chair, way too many sounds, pressure), and emotions tend to be amplified, often to the point of being overwhelming, and because of the whole focus thing, it's really, really hard to ignore that stuff. I'm sorry, rambling a bit here, but if you'd like to learn more, here's an article to start with: </p><p>https://www.healthline.com/health/adhd</p><p>Please feel free to leave a comment if you liked, and once again, thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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